


Footloose and Fancy Free

by pushkin666



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, M/M, Suffering Dean, Violence, Wincest - Freeform, evil!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushkin666/pseuds/pushkin666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's constant escape attempts are dangerous for both himself and Sam and Sam needs to stop him once and for all. Evil!Sam</p>
            </blockquote>





	Footloose and Fancy Free

**Author's Note:**

  * For [specialagentldy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=specialagentldy).



> This was a very belated birthday present for specialagentldy. It isn't part of any other Evil!Sam verse that I've written. She asked that I have Dean try and escape. Well he did and now he has to deal with the aftermath, which to be honest isn't very pretty. And I'm glad to say that she was quite shocked at the ending when I showed it to her. *grins*.

Sam pushed the doors forcefully inwards, slamming them back onto the walls and taking a perverse enjoyment in the echoing retort from the dark room within. The space inside was bible black; thick, dark and dangerous. He sniggered at the irony as the classroom phrase entered his mind. This room had nothing to do with anything associated with the bible or heaven and everything to do with the hell he'd created here on Earth. Within this room was the one person who still fought him, who still refused to acknowledge both Sam's destiny and his own.

It was after all Sam's destiny to lead a demon army onto Earth, and it was Dean's destiny to stand by his side while he did. He didn't care whether Dean agreed or not. He was Sam's; he belonged to him, was the other half of his soul and, frankly, he was getting a little tired of Dean's persistent refusal to take the place laid out for him; both at Sam's side and in Sam's bed. This most recent escape attempt was the final straw and Sam was no longer willing to devote time and energy to finding his brother again.

Dean was lucky he wasn't on his knees, chained to Sam's throne. Lucky he wasn't in the position of some of those hunters who had survived the last battle. The only reason Sam had allowed them to live was that a number of his Generals asked for them. In some respects he was glad that Bobby died in that battle, he would not have enjoyed seeing him as the pet of one of his Generals, although mere discomfort wouldn't have stopped him issuing the hunter as a prize.

He nodded to the demon behind him, waiting until the lights were turned on before he entered the room. His steps were soft as he approached the long, wooden table laid out in the centre; a table large and sturdy enough to hold his brother's body. Dean's arms were stretched out to either side of him, chains both anchoring him to the table and restricting his movement. A thick leather strap attached to two hooks in the table spanned his neck, holding him down. If Dean struggled too much, the collar would stop his airflow and he would pass out. It was clear from the bruising around the pale skin on Dean's neck that he'd already leant that! Sam sighed and shook his head in exasperation. One of these days Dean would learn that there was an inherent value in surrender; that life would be easier if he abandoned the pointless fight. Hopefully what Sam was about to do would help. He hoped it wouldn't break Dean, but if it did, well, that was a risk he was willing to take and he would deal with the consequences if and when they arose.

He ran his eyes covetously over Dean's body. A thick, black, leather strap over Dean's eyes stopped him seeing, a match to the one over his neck. His hair was longer than it used to be but Sam wouldn't let Dean cut it; he liked to have something to hang on to. Liked to run his fingers through Dean's hair when Dean was on his knees in front of him, pulling Dean's head back and forcing him to look up at Sam in submission.

Dean wore a fitted black t-shirt and tight jeans that hugged his muscled frame, leather cuffs with D rings encircled his wrists; the rings attached to the chains that held him to the table. His legs were likewise spread and affixed to the table.

Sam smiled as he looked. Leather and chains were a look that...suited his brother. Perhaps it was something he could investigate further with him, once this was over. Dean's feet were bare and Sam ran his fingers lightly over the toes of Dean's right foot. Dean tried to kick and Sam chuckled and dug his nails into Dean's toes, pushing in until the skin broke and the blood welled to the surface. He ran his fingers through the blood and then brought them to his mouth, tasting Dean's very essence. It was delicious.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was hoarse from shouting. Sam moved until he was stood at the head of the table. He ran his hand over Dean's head and then carefully removed the leather blindfold. He watched as Dean blinked and then opened his eyes, those beautiful eyes looking up at him.

Sam ran his hand over Dean's lips. "Dean, what am I going to do with you? Why do you keep running?" He shook his head at Dean's glare. "You need to stop running, big brother. Shush." He placed his hand over Dean's mouth, stopping him from responding and leant in.

"You keep doing this and you put me at risk. Don't you understand that? My Generals tell me that if I cannot control my Consort how can I be expected to rule over the Earth. It's your destiny Dean. You know that, and you have to accept it. But I know what you're like so...I'm going to help you with your issues."

He took his hand away from Dean's mouth and beckoned the demon forward.

"Dean. I don't think you've met Lucenzo before; Luc to his friends." He smiled at the demon. "He has some very interesting talents and his history is fascinating. When you get the chance you should ask him about the time he's spent on Earth. At one point he even worked for the Inquisition. He's a master of torture." Dean's eyes widened in fear and he began to struggle against the restraints. Sam pushed him back down, holding him still.

"Keep still." he told him. "Do you really think I would allow anybody else to torture you? If anybody is going to do that, it will be me. No, he's here for another reason. Luc", he gestured to the demon. "If you could close the doors and then prepare him."

Sam watched as Luc nodded and pushed his hair out of his eyes. The demon was being granted great favour in being allowed to touch Dean. Sam had warned him, however, that nothing must go wrong with the procedure; it had to be as quick and clean as possible.

He still wasn't sure whether this was the right thing to do, whether Dean would ever forgive him but he was running out of options. It would not be long before one of his Generals demanded that Dean be publicly punished and that was not something that Sam was prepared to do.

Dean was his to punish and his alone, and nobody else should see that. Luc had agreed to the loss of one of his eyes. Although he acted with Sam's permission he was going to harm Dean, to hurt him and for that there was a price to pay. Earning Sam's favour though was well worth it. Luc could have refused to do this, Sam would have thought no less of him if he had, but he didn't. Seemed 'eager' to help!

"Sammy, please. What are you going to do?" Sam looked down at Dean and brushed Dean's hair away from his face. Dean was scared; he was trying to hide it, but Sam could easily read his brother. That was why Dean had waited until Sam was away before making his last escape attempt.

He ran soothing fingers over Dean's brow. "I'm going to stop you from continuing to try and escape, Dean. I could keep you chained up all day, every day but I don't want to do that. This though, this will stop you running from me."

He looked down the table to where Luc was waiting, tools laid out ready on the floor. A knife glinted as Luc cut through denim like butter, pushing the cut jeans to one side and exposing Dean's right calf and ankle. Luc put the knife aside, picked and unsheathed a sword and looked toward Sam for permission.

"One moment, Luc." He looked back down at Dean and then carefully unhooked the throat strap. He ran fingers over the tender flesh and Dean hissed in pain. Sam spread his fingers over his bruised throat, holding him down.

He leant in closer until his lips were brushing against Dean's. "It shouldn't have come to this Dean, you should have just accepted. But you won't, will you? You have to fight and fight; you just won't do what's best for you, best for both of us. So I have to do it for you. I'm not going to lie to you Dean; this is going to hurt like hell. But if you only have one foot, then you can't run away, can you?" He nodded at Luc and, from the corner of his eye, caught the flash as the blade was raised and then again as it was brought down. Dean arched up and Sam caught his brother's scream of anguish with his mouth, swallowed it down, taking part of the pain into himself and away from his brother. Dean's pain was his pain and he would suffer this with him.

Dean's body jerked and then went still; his scream silenced as he lost consciousness. Sam drew back from the scream, brushing Dean's lips with his own before pushing himself up, holding the table to steady him. He glanced towards Lucenzo, watching as the demon wiped the blood from the sword. Once it was cleaned to his satisfaction he sheathed it then walked toward Sam and went down on his knees before him. He raised his face to Sam, his eyes tracking the movement as Sam placed his hands on the side of his head, before pushing his thumbs into the right socket, pushing through the flesh until the eye was removed. Luc said nothing, didn't utter a sound, and just rested his forehead against Sam's hand for a moment.

"My own," Sam said. He held his hand over the ruined socket and concentrated until the flesh covered over, healed. Putting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a golden bracelet. Luc gasped as he handed it to him.

Sam smiled. It was nice to see that Luc hadn't expected this. The bracelets were rare, handed out by Sam to his chosen few; those he trusted and particularly valued. Once placed on the recipient's body it would fix into their flesh, marking them as Sam's own. The only person that could remove them was Sam himself. He carefully placed Luc's eye in his pocket. It was something that would be put away, a treasure gifted to him and treated accordingly.

"My own." he repeated. "Thank you for what you've done, Luc. Would you leave us now please? I need to spend some time alone with my brother."

He watched as the demon exited the room, closing the door behind him. He turned back to Dean. Dean who was, thankfully, still unconscious. Sam released all of Dean's restraints. Once he'd healed him he would take Dean back to their quarters, lay down with his brother in their bed, wrap his arms around him and sleep.

Blood stained Dean's cut jeans and seeped into the table beneath him. Sam checked the wound. It was an excellent cut, clean through with no tearing of the edges. Luc was indeed a master at his trade. Sam held his hands over the bleeding stump of Dean's leg, closed his eyes and concentrated; using his power once again to heal rather than to hurt and maim. There were few that ever saw this side of his power. He could count on one hand those who'd been healed by him.

He could feel the energy; almost see the blue of it as it swirled around Dean's damaged limb, healing the flesh. He opened his eyes and looked down. The leg was healed, the stump clean and smooth as though Dean had never possessed a foot on his right leg. Sam sighed and lifted his hands to his mouth. As he began to lick his brother's blood from his fingers, the rich taste filling his mouth and sending tingles down his spine, he hoped, desperately, that this would be enough. That Dean would now stay with him and stop trying to run. He didn't want to lose Dean, wanted his brother at his side, consort and confidante. If not though, well, Sam was nothing if not practical. If Dean wasn't willing to stand by his side then he'd settle for him cowering at his feet, abhorrent though the idea was.

Whatever it took to keep them safe.


End file.
